Why Stiles is the way he is
by thesheepishchild
Summary: Loudmouth. Constantly babbling. Can't stay still if his life depended on it. Eats like a pig. ANNOYING. This is how people describe Stiles. He's been this way long enough for this to be people's first and lasting impression of him. But he wasn't always like this. He became this way after just one event.
1. My big mouth

"Balinski!"

Startled from his thoughts, Stiles quickly took in his surroundings. He looked up to see his economics teacher/coach standing over his desk. Looking down, he saw that he had a pile of papers on his desk. Another look around showed him that he was supposed to have handed the handout down his row.

He took another look around and saw Scott two rows down. Scott shook his head at him while behind him Jackson tried to hold in his laughter. Everyone else stared at him, ready to watch the disaster.

Because that's what he was. A walking disaster.

"Are you paying attention or is your attention span only attracted to the screen of your phone!" Coach yelled above him. Stiles tried to hold his eyes still but the eye roll happened anyways. The man was obviously using high and low against him to make him feel inferior.

"Actually my span leans more towards the screens of computers." He lowered his head and damned his habit of saying things that should have stayed in his head. He wasn't making any new friends by his strange habit. Sure enough Coach slammed his fist on his desk, and only after feeling the heated glare on him for a few torturous moments did he look up.

"Do you think you're cute Balinski?"

'That's a rhetorical question, don't answer it!' He screamed in his head.

"Many pretty ladies have told me I am attractive. Not too sure how the homosexual community sees me."

'Damn it Stiles.'

Coach who was now red in the face walked away and made quite the show out of grabbing a detention slip. A balled up paper flew across the rows and hit him. He knew Scott was telling him to shut the hell up. He wondered how many hours of detention he would get this time.

He didn't have to wonder too long. The piece of paper was slammed on his desk and to his dismay he saw he was given four hours.

Dropping his forehead to the desk, he cursed at himself. His teacher finally walked away but that did nothing to help his mood. Rubbing his eyes from a mixture of frustration and exhaustion he sighed and for a moment he kept himself in the darkness his hands provided. He had to kill the loudmouth habit. God why did he have to be such an idiot?

'Tell me what you are thinking sweetie.' A beautiful female voice rang in his head

His breath hitched and his hands scrambled to his chest. His heart quickened its beat.

"STILES!" Someone yelled.

'Shut up! I need to hear her. Oh god just one more time. Let me hear her!'

'I'm always here sweetie.'

His hands bunched in his shirt, and he was doing a great job in impersonating a fish out of water. Thank God Lydia didn't have this class. A pain exploded in his chest and had his hands clawing at the buttons of his plaid shirt and under his undershirt. He clawed at his chest and it felt like he wasn't getting any air. He struggled just to breathe. His fingers were getting wet and he now felt lightheaded. He just wanted to breathe damn it.

'Oh please not here. Please anywhere but here.' He pleaded.

He felt hands grab his own and they were pulled out of his shirts. He cried out from the loss contact and tried to free his hands in order to put pressure back on his chest. It felt like his chest was going to explode.

He felt more hands on his shoulders, and they gripped him tight. He barely realized that he was shaking. Another pair of hands lifted his head and his eyes darted frantically over the classroom. It was empty except for Coach, Scott, Danny and unfortunately Jackson. They were talking to him but he couldn't focus on anything but the pain in his chest.

A nauseous feeling over swept him and he knew that he just jinxed himself. He tried to bring his hands to his stomach but Danny's grip on them tightened. He looked down at them and saw that there was blood on them.

His breathing stopped for moments and he felt himself choking.

Oh god he was dying. He was really dying.

"Stiles!" Scott screamed. He saw in the corner of his eye, his best friend's fist collide with his chest. He gasped and sputtered on his breathing for a moment. He greedily took in sweet oxygen but he couldn't enjoy it to long since he fell into unconsciousness the next moment.

* * *

He opened his eyes, but instantly regretted that decision when the light caused pain to explode in the back of his head. He closed his eyes and tried to pinpoint where exactly he hurt.

At the moment, that seemed to be a trick question since his entire body hurt. He didn't dare open his eyes so the light could attack him again. Something moved and the light that was attacking his face was gone. He opened his eyes and looked around him. He was in his mom's car.

His mom's car.

Flashes of his mom and him driving home. A tree falling causing his mom to harshly swerve the van to the right. The car flipping several times and finally landed in the woods. The sound of his mom's screams for help echoing in the now metal cage.

He panicked and tried to unbuckle his seatbelt. Before he could undo it, a bloody hand stopped him. His eyes wide with fear, he glanced up to see his mom.

His throat tightened and a tear slid down his face. The sight of half his mother's face covered in blood made his stomach hurt. The way her right arm twisted the same way Scott's did when he broke it after falling out of a tree made tears come to his eyes.

She reached her good hand to wipe the tears away, but when she saw the blood coating it, she decided to just give him a reassuring smile.

"It's okay sweetie everything's going to be fine." Her smile never faded and she gently took his hand into hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You're going to be fine. Does anything hurt?"

"My head hurts."

Letting go of his hand she gently felt around his head and stopped when he hissed in pain. Feeling the bump, she worried inwardly of the size. This could no doubt cause a concussion. Her husband's worried drilling of medical procedure now actually came in handy.

"Ok Stiles, I don't want you to go back to sleep for a while. Ok?" She stared at her young boy who stared at her back with large brown eyes. Other than the bump on his head, he seemed fine from the crash. No doubt her side took the blunt of the fall. She thanked god for that one good thing. She couldn't bear to see her son hurt.

"Mom I'm really tired though." Stiles murmured. Already his eyes were closing and he was leaning deeply into the seat.

"None of that! You have to say awake. Talk to me sweetie."

"About what?" Stiles asked sleepily.

"Anything! Everything! All the things you don't like. Everything you do. Everything you want to be when you grow up. Sweetie tell me everything!" She said excitedly as she could. Her side was giving her pain, and when she glanced down she saw her blue dress was now stained with red.

"Mom you ok?" Stiles asked. His worry for his mother was growing by the moment.

With another smile, she avoided the question. "Okay Stiles, we have to keep each awake till help arrives. I'll go first, and I'll go as long as I can."

She didn't win 'Most Talkative' out of her senior class for nothing. From when the sun was still high till it was setting for the day, she talked about everything she could think of. How she and her husband had first met. All the embarrassing high school stories of him and herself included.

Stiles got a kick out of that. Their wedding day, she didn't talk about the wedding night of course. All the funny stories of when she was pregnant and of course the endless stories about the ten beautiful years she had thanks to Stiles.

A tear fell when she thought how she may only live to see her handsome Stiles to be ten, but she was able to hide it from her baby.

Stiles asked various questions and she answered most of them, including the one about his name. It soon became night and the woods grew pitch dark. The passengers inside the car held hands through the night.

It was Stiles turn to talk and he was slow at first. He didn't know what to talk about. He talked about Scott, school, and how one day he wanted to be in police academy. When he felt his mother's hand lose the grip, he gripped tighter and talked with more energy. He told her everything that he had been hiding over the past years.

He talked how he was really good in learning things. How he was able to remember so many facts and he was able to recite them perfectly. Her grip tightened on that and he knew that she was smiling.

"Tell me about some facts you learned sweetie." She asked softly.

He told her the history of the police station in Beacon Hills. He recited the entire sheriff's in order and he made sure to add his father's name at the end.

"Only a matter of time. He is sure to become sheriff one day." She laughed weakly.

Again her grip loosened, but Stiles was ready for this. He told every funny story he could think of. When he had to think of another one, he decided to just say aloud his thoughts. He told her after this that he would consider being a lumberjack so he could cut down all the trees in the woods. He told her how he thinks her chicken casserole is too spicy sometimes. He tells her that she has a crush on Lydia.

Lydia, the girl as Stiles describes her is the one with strawberry blonde hair and the beautiful eyes. Lydia is the one that has caught her baby's eye.

He makes sure he says that she is the prettiest school in the school. The most beautiful girl in town is his mom. She chuckled at that.

He tells her everything that comes to mind, never once stopping to think it over. Whatever he thinks he tells her.

By the time the sun rises, Stiles is just rambling over the dynamics of Batman and Robin. His mouth is dry and his grip on his mother's hand is tight. When the sun's rays hit the pinned car, Stiles is happy to see his mother is staring at him with a smile. "You did a good job sweetie. Thank you for keeping me awake."

Stiles nods and continues his ramble, the entire time talking before he could actually think of what he was saying.

* * *

Um, Hi there. So you just read my first chapter of my first Teen Wolf story. So if you have any tips, criticism or comments about this chapter, the characterization of Stiles, or my writing I will appreciate it very much. So yeah I hope you guys liked the angst and I'll see you next time. Have a lovely day guys!


	2. My Curly fries

Word spread real fast about Stile's attack in economics. The next day he didn't go to school, but he texted Scott that he would be in school tomorrow. He also mentioned that he was nervous that people, aka Jackson, were going to call him a freak.

Of course whatever Stiles told Scott, Scott told Allison. When she had heard of Stile's nervousness she quickly promised her aid. Her promise explained why she and Lydia were walking to his parked jeep in the morning. Allison planned to walk Stiles to his first class which the whole gang shared. Lydia being there was just a plus for Stiles. The boy was always happy when Lydia was with him.

Lydia however was quite the opposite. While walking to Stile's jeep, she was already complaining. The complaining stopped though when the girls got their first look since Stiles had his attack.

With a manicured eyebrow raised she asked with a tone of disgust. "What is he doing?"

Allison looked to the Jeep and her mouth fell open. Confusion etched on her face she stared at Stiles. Taking a few moments before composing an answer she said. "He's just eating breakfast. It is the most important meal of the day."

"Yeah but I don't think four extra-large orders of curly fries justifies for a breakfast. Allison I'm afraid I might puke if I go near him! I mean who eats fries like that?" Lydia asked in disbelief. Allison rolled her eyes at her and grabbed her arm.

The two ladies walked to the jeep and got a closer look at Stiles. The sophomore was stuffing his face with large amount of curly fries and Allison was actually worried that he might end up choking. Lydia before had a look of disgust, but now had a look of confusion on her face.

She knocked sharply on the window and yelled mockingly. "That is the best impression of a pig eating that I've seen anyone do."

Stiles who was shoving a hand filled with curly fries into his face, looked up sharply in surprise at Lydia. Big brown eyes met green criticizing ones. The two stared at another for a moment and it was Lydia who broke.

Grabbing a firm hold on her bag, she rambled about forgetting something in her car. She left Allison and speed walked to her car. Jumping into the front seat, she put the car into drive and drove out of the parking lot. She drove away from the public eye and tried in vain to escape the memory that was emerging from the depth of her memory.

When the memory finally came to her, she grounded her perfectly straight teeth and snarled out. "GOD DAMN IT! WHY AM I SO STUPID?"

Parking into a near empty parking lot, she let her head fall on the steering wheel. She closed her eyes and let the six year old memory play in her head.

* * *

She was walking to the school's parking lot where she hoped her mother was waiting. Her mother was twenty minutes late and the pickup in the front just closed. Entering the parking lot she was already sweating with the sun glaring at her. She looked around to see if there was any protection from the shade. Walking further into the lot, she saw a shaded area that consisted of the back door of the faculty house. There were a few steps there and the roof overhead provided plenty of shade.

Quickly walking to the steps, she halted when a small boy with large brown eyes looked up at her from the steps. The strange boy was eating something like a starved animal. Looking closer she saw that it was curly fries.

The boy smiled at her but the smile fell when she did not return it.

"Hi Lydia." He smiled nervously at her, and tried to wipe off the crumbs on his face. He quickly threw away the trash from the fries and patted the step beside him. "Do you want to sit down?"

"No thank you, my mother will be here to pick me up in a few seconds." She tried to remember the boy's name. He seemed to know hers, but then again everyone knew her name.

The small boy's smile fell, but he nodded back as a reply. The two fourth graders stood in silence and many 'few seconds' passed. The boy constantly moved and shifted, his eyes darted from one side to the other.

Her legs were beginning to hurt and in a huff of annoyance she sat beside the twitchy boy. She noted that he was smaller than her and she smiled at that. It would be only a couple years till the boys dominated over girls in strength and height.

These were crucial years where she had to be strong and make boys fear her. This was so in later years, when they were hopped on steroids and testosterone, there would be a small voice that reminded them to never mess with her.

At least that's what the Harvard's latest edition in Psychology said.

She turned to the small boy and flashed him her signature fake smile at him. He smiled back, a smile that was actually genuine. She didn't know why she felt bad at that. The kid dug into his backpack and brought out a rudimentary phone. It was nothing compared to her phone, which was the latest model from Verizon.

"Do you need a phone to call your mom? You can use mine. You just push the numbers and press this button to send the call. I hope you remember your mom's number. Do you? If you don't that's okay. If my dad comes first we can wait for your mom in the patrol car. Have you ever been in a patrol car? Of course you haven't, that would mean you would have gotten arrested. I'm sure you would never get arrested, you wouldn't do anything bad. You're to nic-"

"No thanks, I have a phone." She snapped back at him. At least during his ramble she had finally learned who this kid was. This was the newly appointed sheriff's kid. All she knew about his name was that it was something weird.

During his ramble she had taken her own phone out and texted her mother to hurry up and pick her up. When she didn't get a reply she dialed her mother's number. The call was answered, but she could tell not intentionally.

She could hear her mother and father argue in the car. The yells and insults coming from the phone were loud enough to where the kid was able to hear. Her face blushing, she hung up the call and glanced at the boy to see his reaction. He had busied himself by digging through his backpack. But she knew he had heard.

He now knew that the perfect Lydia Martin's parents had screaming matches.

"I swear sometimes it's like I only have one parent." She tried to laugh it off and seem like her parents screaming at one another was no big deal.

The sheriff's son placed his hand on her knee and said in a small voice. "I know it sucks, but it will get better."

The comforting gesture was wasted as she jerked her knee away from his hand. She turned to him with fierce green eyes and snarled out. "Don't try to act like you know how it feels to have only one parent. I saw your parents at Open House. Your mom was the first one in and she gushed over all your work while your dad just watched proudly. It doesn't take a genius to see that your parents love each other. So don't you dare try to act like you know the pain of seeing your parents fight with one another!"

Her mouth fell open after her out-of-character burst and she quickly shut it when she saw the expression on the boy's face. It was one of pure pain and sadness.

His face was now pale and with shaking hands he zipped up his backpack. Without a word he stood up from the step and walked away. She watched him walk away and knew when he brought his hand up to his face, he was wiping away tears. He walked off the school grounds and soon he was out of her sight.

She sat there for the next thirty minutes and soon guilt came and slowly began to consume her. She didn't know what exactly she said that caused such a reaction from the boy but she was sorry. If there was one thing she would remember from that boy, it was that everything about him was genuine.

His smile, his sadness and his pain were all raw and true. He wasn't fake like her.

Footsteps interrupted her thoughts and turning to the sound she realized something else. The boy's surprised face was also genuine.

The boy was holding a greasy bag in one hand while the other held a drink. The boy whose mouth was filled with curly fries stared in surprise and shock at her. Turning around he quickly chewed the mouthful and after clearing his mouth did he turn around.

"I thought you would have left by now." He muttered loud enough for her to hear. She didn't reply and she didn't say anything when he sat next to her. He threw his hand into the bag and brought out a handful of curly fries. His face was one of anger and frustration as he devoured the fries.

She watched as he stuffed his face and began to eat the fries in an alarming speed. Her face expressed disgust and she couldn't hold her tongue any longer. "Why must you eat those fries in the style of a pig?"

The boy's hand froze midway in the bag. His face was expressionless when he turned to her and said. "They used to be my mom's favorite food."

'Used to' Her mind screamed at her. She studied the boy's face and saw that his eyes were puffy and red. His mouth was covered with pieces of fries and his hands were covered in grease. She looked closer to see that his hands were blotched red.

"How hot are those fries?" She asked in alarm.

"Just came out of the fryer." He said through a mouthful of fries.

"You're going to burn yourself. Well even more!" She tried to grab the fries but a small thin arm stretched far enough to where she couldn't reach the bag.

"They make me feel close to my mom. If you don't like it then you can just leave." The large brown eyes glared at her and she instantly stopped reaching for the bag. The two once again sat in silence except for the chewing of the curly fries from the boy. When the hand reached into the bag only to feel the paper bottom, he aggressively bunched the bag and threw it in the bushes.

A quick glance showed her several other identical grease spotted bags.

She took another glance at the boy and in a rare moment she comforted someone. Replicating his earlier move, she placed her small hand on his knee that was jittering up and down. The knee slowed down and all the other little movements he was making slowed to a stop.

He stared down at her hand and for one moment, it looked like he was going to start crying. She gripped his knee in a show of support but a honk of a horn had both of them jumping. Her parents were waiting in the parking lot and both looked very upset.

She turned to the boy and saw that he already had a smile on his face.

But it wasn't real. It was just a mask. A mask too complex for a ten year old, but then again she too donned a complicated mask.

He smiled at her and said happily. "I'll see you in school on Monday."

"Do you want us to wait till your dad comes to pick you up?" She was stuck between waiting for someone to pick up the boy and leaving the school grounds so no one could see her arguing parents. The horn honked again and the boy answered by waving his hand and said with that fake smile. "Bye Lydia."

"Goodbye…" She stopped and realized that she never got his name. The boy didn't seem to notice and was already busy on his cellphone. She jumped into the car and stared at the boy as the car drove out of the school parking lot. Before the car could drive away the boy looked up and smiled sadly at her. She weakly smiled back at him and for a moment she knew that they both saw through each other's mask.

She saw a sad boy who was heavily damaged by his mother's death, while he saw that she wasn't perfect, not anywhere close to it.

She was determined to find his name tomorrow. She would be friends with him.

* * *

The fight her parents had that night was one of the worst. The small boy was soon forgotten and fights, promises and screams replaced him. Her mask got harder and thicker and the determination to find the boy's name vanished. Instead she was determined to be perfect. Over the years, the day she chatted with the sheriff's son didn't exist to her. Because that was the day where her mask fell and she didn't want to remember that.

* * *

The sun was setting and his teeth chattered as the night air began to make its presence. He rubbed his knees and hoped his father would pick him up soon. He said he would pick him when he could but he didn't think that his father meant he would have to wait this long.

When Lydia left he quickly finished his homework and was now just trying to keep his mind track on anything but his mother. His heart already ached over what Lydia had told him. He knew she was sorry for what she had said, but it still hurt.

It had only been two months and yet….No he was not going to think about her. He wrung his hands but stopped when pain erupted in them.

He did it again.

He ate the curly fries when they were still too hot. But he couldn't stop himself when they were in his hands. He had to eat them because they used to be her favorite.

He missed her so much.

He lowered his head on his knees and tried to stop the feeling of dread to consume him. Thankfully a siren went off and he looked up to see his father driving into the empty parking lot. A weight lifted from his chest and he couldn't but smile. His father jumped out of the car and quickly ran over to him.

"Stiles! I'm sorry I'm so late. I got roped into something and I couldn't-" He stopped apologizing when his son ran to him and hugged him tightly. He hugged his son back and for a moment they stayed like that.

Clearing his throat, the sheriff drew back and both of them jumped in the patrol car.

"What sounds good for dinner tonight?"

"A hamburger and curly fries sounds good right now." He replied with a smile on his face. His father smiled back and when he started driving Stiles made sure to cover his hands with his sleeves. Though his stomach was full and he felt sick, the feeling of his missing his mother overpowered them.

* * *

Thank you so much to everyone who alerted or Favorited this story. This being my first teen wolf, I was very happy that people enjoyed it! I would also like to give a special thank you to; NakedKing, kkckat, ForbiddenLeo, only-one-of-my-kind, and Lalaluv27.

Thoughts, criticism, or any questions on this chapter are welcomed. So I hope you guys have a lovely day and I'll see you next time.


	3. My ADHD

Jackson and Danny being the highly respected and awesome lacrosse players they were, arrived at the locker room thirty minutes before practice actually started. Jackson was the first one in and walked straight for his locker.

His mind was only on trying to score some shots before practice and hopefully block McCall a few times to the floor. With his mind only on these objectives, he didn't notice the figure that was sitting on the bench.

Danny, whose brain did not fixate on two things at max, immediately noticed the person on the bench. From the buzz cut and the constant twitch that racked the boy's body, it was easy for Danny to identity the lone figure. He carefully approached Stiles and trying not to spook the boy, he placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Stiles, how's it going." Since Stiles panic attack in class, Danny had been careful when interacting with him. Stiles turned around and Danny saw that he was on the phone. He gestured to him to return to the call and walked away. He walked to his locker and started to change into his goalie uniform.

Even though he would never eavesdrop on other's conversations, it was kind of hard not to at the moment. With only three people in the locker room, it was quiet except for the phone conversation Stiles was having. Though Stiles now talked much quieter, Danny could still hear Stiles side of the conversation.

"No dad it wasn't that bad. The school was overreacting that's all. Yeah, I'm totally fine."

"What was that noise? Are you eating fast food? Oh my god that was a hamburger wrapper wasn't it. No I am not changing the subject, I think you are!"

A moment of silence passed and Danny was sure that the sheriff was now doing most of the talking. He heard Stiles' feet start tapping the floor, and a moment later his fingers were heavily drumming against the bench.

In a defeated tone he said. "I know dad." More silence on Stile's side of the conversation. The thumping of his feet and fingers grew stronger. "No problem, I know the routine. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Oh. Ok, tomorrow night then. Yeah no I'll be fine. Ok dad, be safe out there. I love you."

The call ended but the thumping and tapping remained.

Danny stopped putting his equipment on for a moment to walk over to Stiles, who was still sitting down on the bench. Before he could ask if Stiles was ok, Jackson cut him off.

"Dude take some fucking Adderall for that twitching, you're getting on my damn nerves!"

Stiles aggressively nodded and with shaking hands he grabbed his backpack. Head down and avoiding eye contact he left the locker room. When the door closed, Danny walked over to Jackson. His finger a centimeter from his best friend's chest, with each word he poked him in the chest hard. "You are an asshole."

"What the hell did I do?" Jackson asked in alarm.

"You really had to make a comment about Stiles twitching?"

"Yeah it was annoying, and you know it." Jackson defended himself.

Danny rolled his eyes at the response and laid himself down on a bench. The urge to practice was gone, and now he just wanted to go home and sleep. The locker room was filled with silence and when he saw Jackson make his way to the door he said aloud. "I don't think Stiles has ADHD."

Jackson sighed in annoyance and retorted. "Why the hell are we still talking about Stilinski." When Danny didn't reply he added. "The idiot can't sit still for two minutes, he has ADHD!"

Danny got up from the bench and walked towards the exit door. When he stood beside Jackson he said. "I went to elementary school with him. He was a shy, quiet and still kid."

Jackson gave him a questioning look and Danny continued. "When his mother died, he came back to school different. He had all these ticks and odd habits. Her death was really hard on him. So again please lay off Stilinski will you?"

Jackson rolled his eyes for a response but when Danny wasn't looking, a guilty expression passed over his face.

* * *

Sitting in his precious jeep, he held his regular dosage of Adderall. Though he wanted nothing more to toss the pills back, he knew that he took a large than prescribed dose of Adderall last night. It would be dangerous if he took another dose.

Laying his head down on the steering wheel, he closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew was someone was rapidly knocking on his window. Looking around frantically, he saw Allison was standing outside.

Outside in the dark.

Looking around he saw that the parking lot had few remaining cars and looking at his cell he saw he fell asleep for three hours. Rolling his window down he turned towards Allison who had a worried expression.

"Hi Allison." He greeted her with a smile.

"Hey Stiles, you ok?"

Throwing his hands in the air he said "Yeah, Yeah. Of course. I just took a nap."

"Are you going to be ok driving home?"

Stiles decided to just nod in reply and before Allison could ask him another question he drove off. Driving out of the parking lot, he made sure to take the exit farthest away from the lacrosse field. Though he doubted it helped with hiding his identity, he was the only one with a Jeep.

Though he had the intention to drive home, an hour later he found himself still driving around town. Looking around he tried to find where the hell he was. Looking to his side, he was met with the sight of the large dark forest. He began to look around frantically and when he realized where he was his driving he froze.

Making a sharp U-turn he sped his jeep away from the road he was just driving on. Ten minutes later he found himself in front of his house. His knuckles were sore from their tight grip they had on the steering wheel. It took a couple tries to unwind himself enough to let go of the wheel.

With clumsy hands he brought his cellphone and sent a text containing two words to Scott. He hoped that Scott wasn't busy with Allison and would come and pick up.

He was hoping for a miracle.

Ten minutes later, headlights brighten his driveway. Turning around he saw Scott and Allison were waiting for him. He didn't mind Allison being there, as long as someone was actually there.

Getting out of his car, he speed walked to the waiting one and jumped in. Allison gave him a comforting smile while Scott glanced nervously at him from the rearview mirror.

The car ride was quiet but comforting. He was already falling asleep when they drove up to the McCall residence. Walking half-asleep he threw himself onto Scott's bed.

Scott joined him a moment later and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"Are you kidding me? This is the first time in a long time that I've gone to your house and not be threatened by a bat. I'm awesome right now."

Scott laughed. Getting up he threw a blanket over him and before exiting the room he said. "I'm going to say goodbye to Allison and I'll be back in a few."

He waited for a response but he saw that Stiles was already asleep. Turning off the light, he gently closed the door and walked downstairs. Allison was waiting for him on the couch and was staring at his phone that was lying on the coffee table.

Scott picked up the phone and closed the text from Stiles. Sighing he rubbed his face and opened the text to read it one more time. He couldn't remember when the last time he got this exact text but he knew it was in the years amount.

'I'm cracking.' The text read.

"What does he mean by that?" Allison asked softly.

"It means that he needs to spend the night and needs a person to be near. And it usually means that he's been taking too much Adderall. "

"Doesn't he need Adderall for his ADHD though?"

Scott looked at Allison and for a moment he hesitated in answering the question. Taking a deep breath he said. "Allison I'm only going to tell you this because I hope that if I'm too busy because of werewolf problems, you can help Stiles.

Allison hearing the seriousness of the situation nodded.

"Stiles does not have ADHD. He developed the habit of twitching because he was stuck in a crushed car with his mother's body for about six hours. He told me that he needed to move because he couldn't look at his mother's body and his mother made him move in order to not fall asleep. He was suffering from blood loss and a severe concussion when they found him. He said that he was twitching so bad that the paramedics thought he was having a seizure."

"Does his father know this?" Allison asked. Her face was pale and her eyes glanced up at Scott's room where Stiles laid.

Scott shook his head no. "When his father thought that he had ADHD, he researched it and found that all his habits from the crash were similar to the symptoms. So he just said that he had ADHD."

Allison shook her head and wiped her eyes and the moisture that was on them. She quickly hugged her boyfriend and gave him a tight hug. "Go to Stiles, he needs you. I'll text you tomorrow."

Grabbing her purse she walked out of the door and left Scott. Scott watched and made sure Allison made it to her car safely. When she drove off, Scott quickly went upstairs and into his room. Seeing a still Stiles on his bed always made his stomach drop. It just looked so unnatural.

Grabbing a pillow he went onto his bed and worked around Stiles' body. Though they were both sophomores in high school, Scott was glad that both of them still turned to one another when they needed help.

Even though he hadn't been the greatest best friend these past months, he was glad that he had Stile's back this time.

* * *

Thank you so much to Mindyrainbowpants, kkckat3, NakedKing, Lalaluv27, 7princesofhell, Storytagger2, and Guest for reviewing!

Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and thank you for reading. So if you have any criticism or comments about this chapter, I will appreciate it very much. So yeah I'll see you next time. Have a lovely day guys!


	4. My annoying self

It had been a month since Stiles slept over at Scott's. In that month, his life had been one long blur as one day meshed into the next. The month long search for the kamina, turned into the search for the master of the kamina. Bluntly, this month sucked balls.

Today was no better that the rest. After two days of no sleep, he was running only on a larger than prescribed dose of Adderall, and an extra-large black coffee. When he was finally about to crash, he received a text from none other than Derek Hale.

'Need to do research. Meet me at the library.' He could almost hear Derek's demanding voice while reading the text.

Rubbing his eyes he tried to wake himself up. Standing up, he froze a few moments as his vision spun. He sat back down for a few moments and after taking deep breathes did he stand again. Feeling jittery he walked to his dresser and pulled out his Adderall. He didn't think when he took another larger than prescribed dose. It had become a regular thing in his life. His mindset was just on helping. He needed to be focused while helping.

He had to be useful.

He waited for the Adderall to kick in, but after his constant use of it, he saw that it was taking longer than usual. He waited a few minutes but he saw that his tolerance was growing. It was midway to the library did the medication finally kick in. Thankfully just in time, since he was sure he drove through at least two red lights.

He just thanked his lucky batman boxers that he arrived at the library parking lot safe and sound. Locking his jeep, he only took a step forward before he was grabbed back and pushed onto the door of his jeep.

"Oh my god!" He exclaimed in surprise. Glaring at Derek he scowled and yelled. "Is scaring the hell out of teenagers one of your hobbies!"

"Hurry the hell up and get inside!" Derek snarled in response. Following the Alpha he rolled his eyes when Derek began picking the lock to the library. "Telling me to hurry up and he hasn't even unlocked the door. Just peachy."

With a snarl, Derek opened the door and quickly went inside, leaving Stiles behind.

Readjusting his hold on his backpack, Stiles tripped over his feet two times before he actually made it inside the library. The Adderall helped him focus but that did nothing for the exhaustion his body was battling.

The werewolf just rolled his eyes at him and muttered something about him being annoying. Stiles was honestly too tired to even come back with a witty comeback.

When Derek pushed him towards one of the shelves, he realized the Alpha was talking to him. He caught the end of the sentence but that was all that mattered really. "-check out these books."

"Oh shucks I forgot to bring my library card." He mumbled under his breath. He didn't have to turn around to see the glare the werewolf gave him. Neither of them said a word while going through the books.

Stiles was flipping through a book about supernatural rituals for the dead when for the second time he was aggressively turned around.

"What now?" He asked.

"Go look in that aisle." Derek ordered with a push in the aisle he was speaking of.

"Why can't you. Last time I checked libraries don't decorate their shelves with wolfsbane!" Stiles questioned. He returned back to where he was before and picked up the book he was looking at.

The book was slammed down and Derek barked at him. "GO!"

"Well then!" Stiles snapped back in mock hurt.

Walking to the direction Derek pointed, he saw that he was walking towards the section where they kept all the yearbooks. It took a few minutes for his exhausted mind to realize that Derek wouldn't have wanted to look through the yearbooks since he would see at least one deceased family member. With a sigh he made his way to the back.

Going to the back shelf he saw yearbooks from thirty years back were in front of him. Scanning the years on the books, he stopped at one book and a chill went down his back. His body acted before his mind could catch up and pulled out one of yearbooks. His mind was screaming at him to stop but he just wanted to see his mother. It had been too long since the last time he saw a picture of her.

Again silence was in the library.

Derek was busy looking through the book he saw Stiles reading, and when he came to the burial chapter his mind went into overdrive. Scanning the forty page chapter, he cursed when he read the part where bodies of supernatural beings must be burned. His thoughts went to Peter's body buried under the floorboards of his house.

"Fuck!" He yelled out in anger. As if things couldn't get more complicated, this shit had to happen. Taking the book with him, he went to call Stiles. The research for the kanima master would have to wait till tomorrow.

"Stiles! Let's go." He called out. He waited to hear movement but he heard nothing from the aisle Stiles was in. With his brain going haywire from the information he just learned, his surroundings were being muffled out in favor of his own racing heartbeat. Taking a deep breath he calmed himself and became aware of his surroundings.

The sound of a fast heartbeat accompanied by struggling breathing, had him running towards Stiles. When he reached the back shelf the sight of Stiles standing still holding a book greeted him. He was staring at something in the yearbook and was muttering to himself. For the first time that night he actually looked at Stiles. The kid looked like a wreck.

"Oh no. No no no." The sophomore kept muttering to himself.

Taking careful steps towards him, Derek placed a firm hand on Stiles shoulder. The sophomore didn't seem to notice that he was not alone and kept muttering to himself. Following his stare he found himself looking at a class picture of a young woman. He didn't even have to look at the name underneath the portrait to identify the woman. The vibrant glowing eyes showed more personality than any other feature was enough to show the relation to Stiles.

Looking down at the other, he saw he was holding the yearbook with a tight shaking grip. "She promised me. You don't break promises an-and oh god I-I can't fucking breathe." He jerked his hands away from the book and stepped away. His hands reached for his chest and he gripped his shirt. "Oh god I'm going to break."

The smell of panic dominated the air and Derek stepped towards him. He approached the shaking teenager with slow steps and when he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around him. Guiding him to sit on the floor, he didn't let him go

"I can't break. No no no. Stop."

"Stiles, its ok. Everything is going to be fine."

An empty laugh filled the library and Derek's grip tightened on him. Stiles took a deep breath and looked up at Derek with a small smile on his face that made the werewolf's stomach drop in fear.

He knew that smile. That was the smile Laura had whenever they talked about memories of their family. It was the smile of someone who was lost and slowly breaking.

"You don't get it. I'm not allowed to break Derek. Everyone has a bigger problems compared to mine and I shouldn't be bitching right now." With a deep shaking breath he continued. "It's weird, I'm the weakest of the group but everyone needs me in some way. Though I only bring research to the table I know that it helps the team. If I break down then I will only hurt people that I care about. I can't be selfish and focus only on my problems."

He heard this reasoning before from Laura. In the beginning she never allowed herself to break in front of Derek and he saw how she was slowly breaking. She would nag him to talk about what he was feeling or what was wrong but that didn't go for her. She thought that she had to be the rock for him, the rock that never cracked or was unstable. It took him three months before she actually talked about the family and that day.

The day she broke was a hard day for him. It was the day he realized that for those three months the Laura in front of him was just a facade. An act all for his benefit, but he saw that it was slowly killing her. Now he was seeing it all over again. Stiles was slowly killing himself for the benefit of others.

"You need to talk to your dad. I'm sure if he knew how much you were hurting he would-"

Stiles shaking of his head stopped him from continuing and the small smile was off his face. "Last time I tried to talk to my dad about everything was when I was eleven. Wanna know what happened?" Stiles didn't wait for an answer. "I told him that I heard my mom's voice. I thought if I told him things would get better. Instead my dad cried himself to sleep that night and for the next two he had his whiskey bottle by his side."

He stopped talking and covered his face with his hands. His chest felt tight and he knew he was once again on the verge of having another attack. Trying to keep his breathing normal he talked to Derek. "The main reason I can never break is because once I do, I'll never be able to put myself back together again." The moment the words were out of his mouth, an odd calmness came over him.

He had never told anyone that. It felt good to finally tell someone what was wrong but, he knew he couldn't make a habit of it. Looking up he saw an expression of anger on the werewolf's face.

Oh god he had told that to Derek. Oh god now Derek knew that he just was some weak useless kid. Here he was crying over his mom and Derek was the sole survivor of his family. God why was he so fucking weak!

Derek still on the floor looked up at Stiles, who had gone still and quiet, couldn't help but feel guilt and anger. How could he forget that Stiles, who he constantly threatened, threw into walls, and insulted was just a kid. He was only sixteen, a child fighting in a war that he was dragged into. Looking at the dark bags underneath Stiles' eyes, the shaking of his body, and the smell of exhaustion, he saw that Stiles was near the edge.

Just like Laura.

"I gotta go home." Stiles whispered.

"Let me drive you home." Derek stood them both up and tried to guide him but Stiles jerked his shoulder away from his grip. He watched the other walk away and quickly caught up to him and blocked him.

"Derek." Stiles warned.

"I'm not letting you drive home."

"Leave me the fuck alone!" Stiles screamed at him and pushed with all his strength. Derek must have been surprised since he was able to go through him. Not letting what might be his only chance escape him, he sprinted out of the library and to his car.

Driving out of the parking lot, he sped his way home. He couldn't help the tears that streamed down his face and he punched his dashboard. He punched it several time until his knuckles came back up in blood. He wanted to pull over but he was fearful that Derek would catch up to him and drag him to his car. He wasn't so weak that he couldn't drive himself home, right?

A horn honking to his right, made him swerve and he saw that he had driven through a stop sign.

"What the fuck is wrong with me!" He screamed at himself.

"Well where do I begin?" A voice replied. By nature he tried to turn around but a gloved hand kept his neck still. The last thing he felt was excruciating pain overtaking his body.

* * *

Thank you so much, Fullmetalmuffins, NakedKing, mindyrainbowpants, Guest, kkckat3, Lady-x-exorcist, PyschoticNari, StoryTagger2, CaptainEvvie, ForbiddenLeo. You guys are great and your reviews make my day.

So if you have any criticism or comments about this chapter, the characterization of Stiles, or my writing I will appreciate it very much. Next update will be the last one! So see you then.

P.S- Does anyone have a spare invite to Ao3 they wouldn't mind giving me. I really want to join but the wait is like six months. So yeah if you have a spare, I would be VERY grateful!


	5. Please Forget Me

He was forced to drive the jeep deep into the woods. The constant pressure of the gun against his spine being all of a reminder he needed to not doing anything stupid. His body and movements were stiff as he drove down the winding roads. Also his head was ringing from where his captor had struck him with the end of a gun. The only thing that was moving fast was his eyes as they darted back and forth to the rear view mirror to glance at the man that was holding him hostage.

Gerard would catch him every time and would smile at him, as if torturing his students was something he truly enjoyed doing in his free time.

"Keep your eyes on the road, most important rule of driving." The hunter said with a laugh.

Stiles said nothing in return. The drive was once again silent and after a few minutes Gerard said in a relaxed tone. "This is far enough. Stop right here."

Stiles barely had time to put his jeep in park, when a fist collided against his temple. His hands flew up to protect himself and feel the burning area. The sound of the safety being clicked off and Gerard demanding him to stop moving made his movements freeze.

His eyesight shaking from the blow, he almost welcomed the thick cloth that was placed over his eyes. A hand on his neck was Gerard's way of leading Stiles out of the jeep and into the woods. They walked in silence, until Gerard finally found a place of his liking.

Forced on his knees, Stiles hissed as his arms were wretched back and his wrists were enclosed in a plastic zip tie tight enough to tear into his skin. Huffing out a breath, to try to contain the pain he said with a smirk. "No gag? Not as kinky as I thought you were."

"Oh I would never shut that pretty mouth of yours." He felt a thumb swipe across his lip before he could jerk away fast enough. His stomach now dropped and his hope for someone to find him was growing.

Oh god his only chance of being saved was all on Derek.

Oh my god. His only chance of being saved from this psycho old man was in the hands of a werewolf who constantly threatened to tear his throat out with his teeth.

He was so screwed.

But Gerard didn't need to know that. Now was the time to use his only weapon.

Bullshitting.

He sensed Gerard crouch down and come closer to him, and it took everything for him to not push himself away. He put on his game face because that's what his life was now. It was all one giant game where his prize if he won was to continue living.

"Derek is going to kill you if you hurt me!" He spat at the old man.

Gerard chuckled at him and grabbed the teenager's face. Digging his fingers into his cheeks Gerard spat right back at him. "Werewolves only get revenge when their pack is hurt. And you, stupid Stiles are not pack. You are not even an omega. You are just a human who has the unhealthy obsession at being in the wrong place at the perfect time."

Stiles ignored the insults and instead focused on a few words. "Human. You said I'm human. The hunter's code says you are not allowed to hurt humans. And I think your daughter made a fine example on what happens to hunters who don't follow-"

He didn't get finish his insult since Gerard rudely interrupted him by punching him in the mouth. The punch not only silenced him but also made him quickly run his tongue over his teeth to check if any had been knocked loose.

"The moment you decided to help out werewolves, was the moment you were no longer human in the eyes of a hunter. If you choose to run with the dogs, then you shall share the same fate as those low creatures. So your death will be smiled upon, in the hunter community."

"The pack. The pack will avenge me. I'm like Coulson!" He smiled through the fear as he realized how similar he was to the character. Granted he would have liked to be Tony Stark but he would take Coulson for right now.

"You really are something Stiles. If only you didn't lower yourself to the dogs." Stiles felt the gun trail over his chin and stopped at the corner of his mouth. "You could have been a great hunter, but now your life will end by being merely a message to the dogs."

Stiles felt his body go still and his hidden efforts to get out zip tie grew frantic. In a sarcastic voice he asked. "What is the message? Do I at least get to know what my death will say to the pack?"

"I plan to carve into your torso." He placed his hand on Stiles' chest and ran his hand over his chest as he spoke "No one is safe."

Stiles felt his stomach turn as the message hit him. Everyone was now in danger. His dad, Scott's mom, Lydia, everyone in Beacon Hills was now in mortal danger.

He opened his mouth to threaten the old man, but the other cut him off. The sensation of cold metal pressing against his forehead silenced him.

"Because I like you Stiles, I'll make this quick."

"It's only proper manners since we did the same for Kate. Though for her we slit her throat and we all watched her bleed to de-" Again the gun smacked him across the face and this time he felt the gun cut his cheek.

"Now I'm going to take my time with this." Gerard muttered. He swung again and got Stiles in the same place as last time. The sensation of blood flowing gave Stiles chills but he kept silent as the blows continued.

After a few minutes, honestly how the hell was this old man capable of having this strength, of punching the teenager Gerard got bored and brought up the gun. He stepped toward the teenager and ripped off the cloth over his eyes.

"I want to see the life fade from your eyes." He growled. His finger was on the trigger and his finger pressed down on the trigger.

The sound of a bullet being fired echoed through the woods, but no screams were heard.

Gerard already had his gun higher up as a new target had entered the playing field. A fully transformed werewolf was glaring at him. His original target for the bullet was hanging from the werewolf's mouth his mouth hung open in surprise and shock.

Hanging off the ground, Stiles quickly used his time wisely and quickly brought his arms under his legs so that they were now in front of him. He barely put his wrists to the front before he was thrown to the side as another shot rang through the woods. Rolling when he hit the ground, he quickly sat up and tried to stand up.

The floor shook beneath him and he felt himself tilting to the side. Breathing hard he struggled to keep himself upright but the hits he took to the head were making it difficult. He heard Gerard and Derek attacking one another, but he was sure Derek could take the old man. He didn't even think that the bullets were filled with wolfs bane.

But never mind that, he had to get the hell out of here. He had to warn everyone.

The sounds of someone falling and an old man yelling in pain filled the air. And as much as Stiles knew Gerard deserved the pain, he could never find himself being happy with others in pain.

Stiles had been running to the jeep, when he heard several things at once. The sound of an animal cry and a loud thud came to him first. But the sound that followed was of a safety being pushed down on a gun. He turned around to face the sound.

He didn't even have a chance to look at his shooter in the face, before a shot rang out and pain began to burn in his chest. His mouth fell open in shock and he felt the area where the burn was strongest.

His hand came back covered in blood.

This was nothing like the movies. Everything was supposed to slow down; he should have seen the bullet slowly come to him. He should have dodged it or Derek should have pulled some freaky werewolf trick at the last possible moment. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

He looked up and for a moment his view faded out. Blinking fast he watched Gerard sprint towards the woods. Derek was hot on his heels, and Stiles was sure he would catch him. He would catch the bastard, take him down, render him unconscious, and tie him up. That sounded like it would take a lot of time.

Right now time was definitely not his friend.

He didn't feel his legs go out, or when he hit the ground. His face was scratched by the sticks and leaves but he didn't pay mind to the small pain. All his attention was on Derek and Gerard. If Derek caught Gerard and got him out of the picture, he would have more time to catch the Kamina, he would stop all this chaos. He just had to get Gerard.

Watching Derek and Gerard run out of his sight became harder when he began to wheeze. Breathing became harder and soon the burning in his chest now felt like a full flame was on his skin. He gasped for air and tried to turn on his back.

He only managed to get on his side. He lay there on the ground, feeling blood slide down his chest and in a fearful moment, he realized that he was dying.

The fear was short lived though, as acceptance took over. It wasn't like he wanted to die but if his death saved several others from the Kamina and Gerard, he was...ok with that.

He tried to take a deep breath of air but his chest hiccupped and Stiles gagged as blood entered his mouth. Coughing it up, he groaned as the pain in his chest became unbearable. He brought his legs in and his hands somehow found their way to his shirt. He gripped the plaid now bloodied cloth as the pain overcame him.

He didn't know how long he stayed in a curled up position. He was starting to lose his grip on consciousness when he felt hands turning him on his back. A hand slapped his cheek and someone was yelling his name.

Unknown hands pried on his chest wound. He feebly tried to push the hands away but they easily overpowered his. "Stay still." A familiar voice growled at him. He tried to open his eyes but he only managed to open them slightly.

He saw a man above him. Oh god he hoped it was Derek and not Gerard. If it was Derek, he was now human. Two bright red orbs glared at him, but Stiles instantly felt relief flood him. "Derek?"

"Stay still, I'm going to pick you up." The Alpha growled at him.

"Get Gerard. Hurry he's getting away." He pleaded at the other. He turned his head and saw that the hunter was nowhere in sight. "Derek hurry."

"Shut up Stiles. I'm taking you to the hospital." He exclaimed. His voice was getting louder as he truly saw the bullet hole and the amount of blood that was now soaking the teenager's shirt. He was trying to keep the panic at bay when he heard Stiles whisper. "But…he's going to hurt everyone. That's what he said."

"Well I'll stop him again, just.. shit just stay still." He growled in a mixture of worry and anger.

"Please go get him. He's going to hurt others if you let him go." Stiles tried to push the other's hands away but stopped when the burning pain overwhelmed him.

"Stiles you are going to die if I leave. Does that change your mind?" Derek finally yelled at him.

"No."

Derek stared at the body underneath him and before he could even think of a reply Stiles begged. "Please just go. Please."

"Stiles, I'll get him later. First I need to get you to the hospital." The werewolf said in a determined tone. He wasn't going to budge. There was no way in hell he was going to leave Stiles to bleed to death.

Stiles however was still fighting and grabbed his hand. Blood smeared on the other's hands but Stiles demanded Derek to look at him in the eye. When he finally had the Alpha's attention did he say. "It's okay Derek. As long as everyone is safe, I don't care what happens to me."

Anger swallowed him and he looked down at the teenager who was currently bleeding and was refusing help. Stiles wanted to save others and save them from pain, but yet here he was thinking it was ok for him to die. He didn't think anyone would miss him. Well he was wrong. Stupidly wrong. "You don't want to die. Stop being an idiot and saying idiotic things."

"I'm just so tired Derek. I don't… I mean…I just..I just really want to see my mom."

"Stiles-" Derek tried to say something, anything really, but Stiles cut him off. In a pleading voice that sounded far too broken for a sixteen year old, Stiles said, "Please just forget about me."

Derek watched in horror as Stiles' eyes rolled in the back of his head and his body went limp. Already have wasted time by arguing, Derek worked fast and picked up the limp bloody body. Placing him on the passenger seat, he didn't bother with the seat belt and instead used his arm instead.

Derek drove like a madman and in five minutes he made it to his thirty minute distance destination. He made the hospital staff aware of his arrival by honking the horn as he drove up to the emergency doors. When he saw a nurse run to the jeep, he quickly bolted out of the door and into the shadows of the building where he could hide and watch.

He watched from afar as a team approached the jeep and with caution brought Stiles out and onto a waiting stretcher. Whenever Stiles went out of his view he would quickly run or go on higher ground in order to see the teenager. He stayed hidden by the shadows and watched in silence as Stiles was taken immediately into surgery.

When the sheriff finally arrived at the hospital, Derek made his leave. He stayed out of the sights of the panicked parent and once he was off of the hospital grounds, he ran. He ran with a destination and decision already in mind.

When he arrived at the veterinarian's office, he found Deaton sitting with a tray of ashes in front of him. Looking at the werewolf he said glumly "I heard what happened, so I thought I would prepare the options before you came."

Derek could only nod in thanks, not having to ask the question almost made it feel as if he wasn't actually going to go through with it. He sat down at the table and waited for Deaton to explain.

Two hours later he exited the building with a vial of ash in his hand. In the other was his phone. He had just ended a call with Scott and now had the teenager's permission. Though it took some arguing and some hurtful truths, Scott had finally agreed to Derek's plan. The kid sounded like he was about to cry by the end of the conversation and Derek knew that tomorrow was going to be a hard day for everyone.

* * *

When he snuck into Stiles' room the next day he saw Scott sitting and chatting with his best friend. The other werewolf stopped midsentence. He stared at the Alpha with fearful large eyes and he reminded Derek to much of a fearful puppy. He jerked his head to the door and Scott quickly got up. He took a step towards the door but quickly jerked around and embraced his best friend.

"I'm sorry Stiles." Scott mumbled into his shoulder. "I should have protected you and-" He stopped talking when his voice cracked. He quickly hugged his friend and then left the room , tears already sliding down his face. Stiles watched his friend leave, his face pale and body stiff.

He glanced at Derek with fearful eyes. "Youre not going to kill me are you" Stiles asked jokingly but with fear laced in it. Derek's expression hardened at the words kill, and Stiles noticed how the tension grew. He cleared his throat before asking hopefully "Can we just forget what I said yesterday?"

He looked at the young teenager in the bed and the bandages that were peeking from his robe were enough to kick him into action.

Derek didn't reply but instead turned his back to the other and began to pour water into a cup. Making sure his actions were not seen, he took out a vial that held the ash Deaton gave him. Tilting it into the cup, he watched as the ash mixed into water. He watched as the black ash begun to turn clear and soon the ashes couldn't even be seen.

Before he could start doubting what he was about to do, he quickly turned and went to Stiles. He shoved the cup into the other's hands. When Stiles looked at him questioningly he grumbled out. "Your throat sounds terrible. Drink it and then try to talk."

Again Stiles looked at him and didn't even glance at the cup that was pushed onto him. Derek felt his stomach drop at the amount of trust Stiles had in him.

He watched as a small smile lifted on Stile's face, but Derek already could tell it was insincere. "Thanks Derek." He picked up the cup and drank it greedily. Derek watched the entire time, noticing some water spill from the sides. He watched as the water slid from the corner of his lips to his chin.

His hand reached outwards to wipe the liquid but a falling cup interrupted his destination. He caught the cup with ease and he watched in horror as the ash began to take effect. Stile's pupils were enlarged and were darting from side to side. His mouth opened as if trying to say something, but nothing came out. His eyes landed on Derek and for one moment Derek saw the look of confusion and regret. But the moment passed all too soon, and Stiles fell to the bed already unconscious.

Looking at the still body of Stiles, Derek too felt his body go still. This would be the last time he would ever interact with Stiles. He wished his last moments with the teenager would have been filled with their usual banter and bickering and god he wanted to at least hear his laugh one last time.

He stepped forward his arm outstretched to the other but something held him back. He body going into autopilot it took him to the door. His body refused to let him go back but his mind was screaming at him to get one last look, one last touch of Stiles.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to end. Him and Stiles. There was something there. He didn't know what but he felt something whenever he was around the other.

But now, Stiles wouldn't even know who he was. He was nobody to the teenager. A stranger.

The ash would erase all his memories of the supernatural. Derek had to remind himself that this was his decision. He needed to have Stiles forget about all this. He needed Stiles to be safe. He needed to see Stiles not thinking things would be better if he was dead.

He needed to see Stiles sincerely smile.

He stepped outside of the room and quickly walked out of the hospital. He followed Scott's scent and found him in his mother's car. He could hear the boy's cries before he was halfway there. He couldn't tell if it was because of his supreme hearing or if it was because Scott was crying so loud.

He pulled the door open and with no hesitation he gripped the young werewolf's shoulder. Tightening his hold on it, he reminded him. "It's for the best that he just forgets."

* * *

The fiasco that was the Kanima and Gerard was taken care of. Stiles was never involved. Never got hurt. Didn't even know what was going on. He just went on as a normal high school kid. His grades were back to all A's and his father and him were back to normal. There was pride in the sheriff's eyes whenever he talked about his son. Any distrust that the sheriff had built towards his son over the past year, was now wiped away.

Derek tried to avoid seeing or being in the same one mile radius as Stiles. Scott would usually text him where Stiles was going for the day, and Derek would avoid all those places. For the first month, that had worked just fine.

But then Derek began seeing Stiles at random places. Each time Stiles would somehow be able to make eye contact with him and Derek would quickly get away from that place.

Weeks after the run ins with Stiles, while training his new pack, he would see a flash of red somewhere in the woods. After seeing the blur several more times, he had had enough and went to find the intruder.

He couldn't find the others scent but using his tracking skills he managed to corner the red hooded figure. When he tackled the intruder and pulled the hood of the jacket down he felt his stomach drop.

An out of breath Stiles was staring back at him, eyes angry and mouth pressed into a flat thin line. Derek stared down at him in shock and barely heard him when he shouted angrily. "I know something's going on. I know youre not human! And I know that I knew you once! Tell me what happened! Why can't I remember you?"

That was the first time Derek had to force the ash down Stiles' throat. For days he woke up in a cold sweat still hearing Stiles screams and pleads from his nightmares.

No matter how careful the pack was, Stiles would come back to the Hale residence demanding answers. Other times he would come back knowing everything. Everything except the ash.

But he would always demand for Derek. He wouldn't believe anyone's answers, only Derek's. The one who erased his memories every time was the one he still trusted over everyone. And that act was slowly but surely killing Derek.

Sometimes Stiles would remember in a week. Other times it took months for him to piece back everything and gain all his memories back. Scott would approach him with a fearful expression and tell him that Stiles was getting to close. Derek would sigh and comb his hands through his hair.

No matter how long it took, it was always Derek who gave him the ash filled water. He was the one who had to receive the look of betrayal from Stiles every time he had to slip the ash or worse, sometimes force the water into him. Some days he was tempted to ask Scott to sneak the ash in one of Stiles' drinks. It would help with the guilt but one look at Scott's face when he was just thinking about the act, was enough for him to never ask.

Both of them were tempted to tell the other, that maybe it was best if he did remember. But that was just them being selfish.

The memory of Stiles begging him to let him die was enough for him to set off to do his task. And every time he had to do the unforgiving act, something broke inside him. But he'd rather it be him that was slowly breaking than Stiles.

Every time he slipped or forced Stiles to drink the ash, he would hold him as he slowly was pulled to unconsciousness. And every time before he left he would whisper to Stiles three words. Hoping that this would be the last time he would have to say them.

Please forget me.

* * *

First off thank you to everyone who reviewed and pushed me to finish this chapter! Sorry everyone for the wait. Life got in the way, but anyways here it is. The last chapter!

So please review with thoughts, questions, responses.

So I hope everyone has a good night and YAY MONDAY IS OVER!


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